


moments of vulnerability

by f6d9f7



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: ????? i guess????, M/M, Mutual Pining, its all very vague so read it as romance or friendship whichever u prefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 23:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f6d9f7/pseuds/f6d9f7
Summary: there are so many things ziyi would like to say to xukun. ziyi knows there are so many things xukun would like to say to him. but a barely-familiar practice room at midnight isn't the time or place for any of those things.(alt. behind the scenes of idol producer)





	moments of vulnerability

the clock on the wall reads 11:59.

in theory, they shouldn’t be here. in practice, ziyi suspects that all the mentors know what it means to need stress relief, to need a moment away from the noise and the _people_.

xukun doesn’t look at him. every muscle in his body is tensed, and ziyi doesn’t know _why_ , exactly, but he knows that xukun is under a lot of pressure. more so than the rest of them. it makes him into a ticking time-bomb.

ziyi feels a little dizzy. this isn’t the xukun he knows. the xukun he knows would never be caught looking this _weak_ , crumbling under everyone’s expectations of him. he wouldn’t be here, back pressed against the mirrored wall because it’s the only place in the room where he can’t see himself. knees pulled up to his chest, head ducked. vulnerable.

ziyi can see himself in the mirror, beyond xukun, and despite the fact that he’s still standing he looks just as helpless.

the clock on the wall ticks over to midnight. outside the room, ziyi can hear others moving around. others looking to claim a practice room for themselves, probably, looking to pour every ounce of themselves into a performance that will no doubt go unappreciated. forgoing sleep to try to impress an audience that hasn’t noticed them, likely _won’t_ notice them.

ziyi locks the door. he’s aware he’s being a little harsh. everyone here _deserves_ to be here. they’re all talented, and dedicated, it’s just that ziyi knows, has known from day one, that the odds are skewed in certain directions. the yuehua trainees are all loved, _adored_ , the citizen producers’ darling almost as much as xukun is.

ziyi approaches. xukun doesn’t move, possibly anticipating ziyi’s next action, but ziyi can’t tell if he’s even breathing. statue-still. it’s a little bit terrifying.

“kun,” he whispers, once he’s close enough. his throat feels scratchy. he coughs, then repeats himself, a little louder. “kun.”

xukun lifts his head. his eyes are rimmed with red, and ziyi can’t help the fleeting thought that xukun is so good at everything _and_ he’s a pretty crier. “ _ge_ ,” he says. his voice is shaky.

“i’m sorry,” ziyi says. “i can—i can leave, if you want, or—”

xukun reaches a hand out to him, fingers trembling. “i’m glad it’s you.”

ziyi twines their fingers together. he waits. the clock ticks over to 12:01.


End file.
